


Morning in May

by BrokenHallelujah



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenHallelujah/pseuds/BrokenHallelujah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was a chance...would you take it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning in May

Ten years ago Connor had asked him, tone hushed as they slipped back into the house unnoticed by their slumbering mother, what Murphy would do without him and Murphy had boxed his ears and called him a 'feckin' idjit', as he tried not to think on the question. But now, sunlight filtering through a dirty window to fall on an empty bed, he knew, and was decidedly silent. 

The tears hadn't come -- wouldn't come. The pain ran too deep to evoke any emotion but emptiness. He felt...numb. Almost two years of being the Lord's shepherds were under their belts when it happened. Not a bullet, as they were so sure it would be, but a damned car. 

Connor had just stepped out for some cigarettes while Murphy showered, and boom. He felt it, felt the crack, and fell to his knees. Knew, even before the rest of the world did. Before the cops were called, before the story hit the newsstand and television stations for identification. The bond was broken. Connor was gone.

And even in his grief he found himself wondering why his body hadn't stopped functioning as well, because Ma always said they were two parts of the same person. Two halves of one soul. One couldn't exist without the other, right? So he forced his body to stop. Hadn't left the motel room in four days, hadn't really even moved. They'd paid for a month's stay in advance, no one would check in. So he sat, Connor's pea coat draped over his shoulders, and waited. He wouldn't have to wait long. Malnourished and sleep deprived, his body would start to falter. Time would seem to stretch on endlessly, though it'd only been twelve seconds.

Seconds, or days? Had the hour-hand moved when he wasn't aware? How long had he been here? It felt like eternity.

Then came the delusions. Shadows warping, faces of the men he's killed taunting, memories...all wafting past half-lidded and glazed eyes that were once so full of life. Rare moments of lucidity found him and had him gripping his gun painfully like a lifeline. Lifeline, or a way out. It varied on the moment, really. But he was always unable to pull the trigger. Suicide is a sin. But so was killing. Lying. Stealing. They'd done it all while under the Lord's mission. Would it be a sin to finish what God had started? He'd left Murphy alone. How could the God they worshiped and served so diligently condemn him like that? There was no Connor, no Murphy, just Them. One. The job was half-done.

'...I know he will die. But please, if I could only tell him goodbye...All I want is just one more day...'

And then he was gone again. The room spun violently, walls warping and closing in, and those blue eyes closed as bile rose in his throat. He choked, though whether it was on the taste or the cry of anguish that almost escaped was unknown.

Like a gust of cool air, the nausea was gone. The rough whirling ceased. He could hear the birds outside the grimy window, the sound of a busy street as people went on with their lives, and an overwhelming feeling of warmth. Lids cracked open...when had he lain down? A rustling of fabric to his left had him glancing, and his heart beating frantically.

Connor. Curled in a mass of blankets and looking every bit as tussled and beautiful as the morning it all fell apart. His breath caught in his throat, and he reached slowly to touch a sun-kissed cheek only to have that hand snagged and brought to lips. Connor shifted then, tugging Murphy to lay back down and cracking an eye open, questioning with a gaze. Murphy just shook his head, blinking back the stinging in his own eyes, and wound himself about his twin. 

Connor gathered him up as best he could in their position, nose nestled in dark tresses, and fingers drawing imaginary designs into that pale and trembling flesh. Quietly he murmured soothing nonsense, trying to counteract whatever had riled his brother up so much. And Murphy let him try. He wanted desperately for this to be real, and for the past week he experienced to have just been a terrible, terrible nightmare. But it felt so real. So real...but then, so did this. He could really feel Connor's flesh against his as their limbs lay tangled together. At this point he was willing to accept whatever happiness he could, and threw himself into this moment, forcing the dream from his mind.

They coddled one another, exchanging kisses and words freely, for a good twenty minutes before Connor stirred, moving to unwind himself. Neither Macmanus was very good at keeping still for very long, and he needed to answer the call of nature and grab a smoke. Rolling out of bed and ambling to the bathroom, he handled his business with an audible sigh of relief, before returning to snatch the pack off the bedside table. A quick shake told him they were out, and he stole a glance at his brother, who was just rolling out of bed with a curse. 

With a chuckle, he set about tugging on some clothes as Murphy shuffled to the bathroom to tend to his own need, and grabbed the keys, calling over his shoulder as he opened the door. "Hey Murph, I'm goin' to buy a carton o' smokes. Don't use all the hot water this time, ye wanker!" A click, silence, and then a strangled cry ripped from Murphy's throat as now and then collided. 

It was happening again? He was going to be alone! "Connor!" Murphy bolted to the door, wrenching it open the engine turned over and caught a wave from his smiling brother. He felt the flutters of panic blossom fully, feeling as if his insides were tearing. "Conn!" He launched himself at the car as it rolled backwards, pounding on the hood. It stopped, and he stood there trying to collect himself. His mind raced, trying to figure out a way to make it work. 

How could he convince Connor to stay? Was it even possible? The Lord had called upon his twin this day, could he really beat a force like that? Would it be right to go against the one thing he knew above all else, other than Connor? He'd let Murphy see before it happened. But why, to try and stop it, or to say good bye? If he tried to stop it now, if he defied God...

Pushing off the hood, he strode to the passenger side and opened the door, sliding into the seat. All concern was gone from his features as he closed the door behind him. Flashing Connor a comfortable smile, he leaned to steal a kiss from all too familiar lips, grasping a calloused hand in his own as he said "Thought I'd come along for the ride."

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by Ludo's Broken Bride album. The original site I uploaded this to kept wiping everything, so I ended up rewriting this three times. I'm not sure it's how I liked it most, but I posted it anyway. Constructive criticism is appreciated.


End file.
